The Angry Exile: Green is the colour of evil, dictatorship and death.

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Wednesday 22 September 2010

Green is the colour of evil, dictatorship and death.

As disgraceful as what's being done to the Thompsons is (see last post) we should remember that for some greenies this is only the beginning, and that what they really want is to kill off most - about 90% - of the world's population either directly or by encouraging disease and starvation in the third world, to sterilise many of the rest by force, to licence having children (actually a child), to set up re-education gulags for those who aren't on message but for whatever reason aren't killed (yet, I presume), and to have the few remaining people completely under the control of their ruling elite and living the kind of life that hasn't existed in Western nations for several centuries. There are people out there who absolutely and sincerely believe that Hitler, Stalin, Pol Pot and others in the Window Licking Happy Massacres Club were doing the world, as distinct from humanity, a favour but didn't go far enough. And this man, Pentti Linkola, is one of them.

Philosopher Pentti Linkola has built an enthusiastic following of self-described “eco-fascists” receptive to his message that the state should enact draconian measures of “discipline, prohibition, enforcement and oppression” in order to make people comply with environmental dictates.

Jesus Christ Almighty, you can almost hear the marching jacksandals, can't you? Form an orderly queue at your nearest gun shop if you're not keen on the idea of going quietly when this fucker's greenshirt stomrtroopers kick your door in. You really shouldn't judge by pictures but there's something about that photo of him that to me makes him look like he's evaluating the person behind the camera. It's a look I've always imagined was on the face of Josef Mengele and fellow Nazis as they experimented on prisoners. It's a look of someone who doesn't just not value human life but values the extinguishing of it. Or maybe that's just the impression I have because he says things like this.

[World War Three would be] a happy occasion for the planet.... If there were a button I could press, I would sacrifice myself without hesitating, if it meant millions of people would die.

I like the idea of him sacrificing himself without hesitating but I'm not so keen on all the other stuff. Admittedly I feel pretty misanthropic myself, ooooh, about four or five times a week, but I don't want everyone else dead or even necessarily converted to my way of thinking - I just wish their apparently congenital need to suck the state's tit from the cradle to the grave while they tweep out in front of the idiot's lantern wasn't stopping me from living my way. Smiler up there wants to go so much further, further even than the likes of Porridge, Lovelocke and Moonbat, and if there was a button I could press to interrupt the X-Factor with a short message to the effect that this greenie at the least, and almost certainly many others, would very much like everyone watching the show to die please, I'd happily sacrifice a few minutes of other people's on-air freak wrangling* if it meant millions of people finally learned how genuinely dangerous these eco-tools, or rather eco-facists as some of them are beginning to admit, can be.

Gentlemen... 'Eco Prevails!'

Islam? Osama bin Liner? Don't make me fucking laugh. He might harbour dreams of a caliphate and the conversion of western nations to his particular fantasy, but relatively speaking that's chickenshit. What Linkola and his fellow believers want is basically the end of the world.

* TM Daily Mash.